The Rise of Vox the Outcast III

The Rise of Vox the Outcast III:

The Salkoriam Priestess had known she was trouble as soon as she realized the girl was headed her way.

Over the last few years that thought was only confirmed and not just that, it had grown into a cloud that now loomed over the lands, as the dark promise of what was to come.

She should have done something.

She should have given up her much beloved tranquility in the happenings of the world, and rid it of this wicked thing, like a bud nipped from a rose.

For wicked she was, from her cruel, glaring eyes to the barbed organ she dared call her heart.

She had summoned the poor creatures of the Wastes to do her bidding and keep the Priestess obedient.

She had had no choice; the world was set to burn, had she not begrudgingly taught this vile being the ways of her trade. Damned if she did, damned if she didn't.

That was what the girl had been after; to learn how to conjure, how to call forth those enigmas that lived in between light and darkness, how to use them for her own gain.
And it hadn't stopped there.

She had known about her deepest secret, the craft of necromancy.

She intended to steal away the souls of those who'd passed and increase her already unnatural strength.

She wanted power because she didn't know that power brought no happiness.

How had it come to this?

Forgive me Alkorm, for teaching the evil....



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